Where The Flying Maple Seeds Fall
by Iamskittles
Summary: It's a foolish idea to think of the world in only black and white. That's the problem with the Templars and the Brotherhood. The world doesn't need the blacks or the whites to survive, it's the gray that turn the tides. I find myself leaning more towards the gray these days. I find it tiresome to agree with both while siding with the other. I've grown to not care who doesn't agree.
1. Chapter 1

September, 25th 1756

Paris, France

Sometime before midnight.

Haytham Kenway had thought that he was done performing menial tasks for the Templars outside of the colonies, though, a Mr. Alexandre Laurent had unconsciously thought differently. Normally, a grandmaster wouldn't be sent on such a task, finding, and ending, a traitor to the order. The only thing that made the situation "special" was the man's own family. If the man's own wife, Marceline, hadn't sent a letter to Haytham specifically, at her own risk, he wouldn't have known of the traitor's plans to actively aid the enemy by providing food, shelter, and information crucial tom the Order's survival in the new world, of all places. All for profit, of course.

In her letter, Marceline mentioned that she wouldn't have sent word at all, had it not been for her fear of her husbands failing mental strength. Apparently, the Laurent's once great name was now falling into obscurity, all because of Alexandre's expensive vices. Lavish parties were not a common thing for the wealthy people of France, and they were an easy way of flaunting one's status to their peers. Those parties, combined with Alexandre's addiction to other women, gambling, and the drink, greatly depleted the family fortune. It was all Marceline could do to try to stop her husband, but, all of her attempts were met with the back of his hand.

When Haytham looked at a few strange drop marks on the paper, he felt his heart hurt for her when he continued to read that one time during one of the couple's fights, their three year old daughter,Arlette, had been crying unnoticed in the corner. The poor young girl had only gotten up because she heard her father come in and had wanted him to say goodnight to him. The drop stains on the paper appeared to be Marceline's tears.

She then went on to state that even though he was her husband, the father of her child, she couldn't live under the same roof as a traitor to the order. She had used her servants as informants and had gained information pertaining a meeting her husband was going to host in their home, not a week from Arlette's fourth birthday. She knew there were other member's of the order she could turn to, closer as well, but, she and Haytham had been friends since they were young. She would rather not have many people privy to such humiliating information, she would rather only allowing someone she trusted to know of her ordeal.

Haytham could remember playing with the golden haired french-woman when she was only as old as her own daughter. He remembered when they met again, years after the death of his father, where he learned of her own involvement with the Templar order. Not as active a member as most of the order, seeing as no one would allow her to do much fighting, even though she was thoroughly trained with a sword, she was a valued member in her own right. To his surprise, she was mostly utilized for reconnaissance and spying. They became good friends over the years up until her marriage and his own departure to the colonies, frequently sending letters and information that would benefit the other in whatever they were doing at the time.

It did not surprise him that it was he she turned to in her hour of need. Seeing as he was the only one who disapproved of her engagement to Alexandre, it was an arrangement of convenience, he knew the worm would turn against them, but, the order needed his family's connections in France so the Templars could have one of their own whispering in the ears of the French nobility. Alexandre was not as devoted to the order as he should have been, he was more devoted to skirt chasing and partying. It never made sense to him that they should take beautiful, talented Marceline and turn her into a god forsaken housewife. It seemed like a terrible waste, especially when they actually had more french speaking women more suited in such a position. Reginald's only answers were that it was only Haytham's bias that kept him from seeing the benefits from having Marceline back in her home country. So, he let it be at the time.

Now, that he had all of his fears confirmed, he had wasted no time in planning a trip to Paris so he could further investigate his old friend's leads in the matter. With dread filling his heart, he hoped he could "resolve" this without further traumatizing young Arlette. He had only briefly heard of the baby's birth in one of the few letter's he had received since Marceline married, so, he was more than curious about the little girl. He could only pray that she took after her mother.

Haytham peered outside of his rented carriage, taking in the beauty of the estate in witch Alexandre inherited from his father before him. Even in the dead of night, it shined with a glow so unnatural, it must come from the angel's themselves, just as Marceline wrote. As big as a castle, looming over all who would pass by and also just as daunting. Marceline mentioned in her letter that she was going to have a door on the left side of the estate open to his entry, so that he would have one less thing to do, should he come to her aid. That way, even though there weren't any guards outside of the manor, the men on the inside wouldn't question his presence.

His eyes quickly found the balcony witch she spoke of, the only lit room on the left on the first floor, and he made his way to it. True to her word, there wasn't a soul in sight on the outside of the mansion. That only meant the conspirators on the inside had no idea he was coming for them.

With a smirk on his face he entered the house.

'_Perfect'_

* * *

Arlette awoke to the sound of some large commotion coming from downstairs with a small scream. She held the doll her mother had bought her close to her chest, as if the doll were in danger and she could protect it. From then all she could hear was the sounds of servants and guards rushing about the floor, fear gripping the small child's heart.

",_Mama(french)?!" _She called out with a shaky voice.

She was easily startled, coming from years of living with her easily angered father, her mother usually could hear her from her own chambers across the hall. Arlette could feel tears prickling her eyes, stinging more and more the longer she waited and hoped her mother could hear her. She tried to call for her three more times before an eerie quiet settled about the normally noisy castle. She tried to stifle her crying as she crawled down her large canopy bed, dragging her poor doll with her. Mama said that if she had a bad dream during the night and that she could not hear Arllete's calls, that it was ok to go into her room and sleep with her until she was brave enough to go back to her own room.

The sight that awaited her outside her room startled her, in the world she was used to. There were always servants or guards bustling about the manor, even during the night, due to father's 'guests'. Now, for some reason, it was empty. Completely devoid of all life.

She spun around in shock, trying to find somebody, but the hall from her room to her mother's was completely empty. This only made her eyes prickle with new tears as she ran to her mother's door and proceeded to jump until she could reach the handle and shove it open. She didn't bother closing it behind her while she ran to her mother's bed.

", _Mama, mama, there was a big noise and it woke Suzette and I up,"_She said as she tugged on the covers, trying to pull herself up with only her one arm while the other cradled her doll. ",_It was so scary, Mama, the noise was louder than thunder, and then I heard all the guards leave, and then they were all-,"_She buried her head in her mother's blankets as she said the first part, but, she then lifted her head up to find her mother's bed empty. ",_Gone?"_

_',But, where did she go?'_

Thinking her mother left her, she began to cry as only a scared child does. She decided to try to find her mother downstairs, thinking that maybe she and father were fighting again.

* * *

Having searched the whole first and second floor, she was about to drop to floor and give up when a funny smell prickled her nose. It almost smelled like when mama tried to bake some bread in the kitchens, and the cooks jokingly told Marceline that she didn't do it right. Mama laughed with them before grabbing Arlette and attacked her with tickles.

She decided to follow her nose, thinking her mother might have made that smell again and that's where she'd find her mother. Then she and Suzette could finally get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Arlette rounded the final corner that lead to where the smell was the strongest. Her big blue eyes were wide with anxiety from the whole situation. She didn't like being alone. That was when the monsters could get to her and Suzette.

She looked around and realized she had come all the way to father's study, on the fourth and highest floor of their mansion. Her father wasn't nice like Mama. He never held her hand when walking, or heard her crying from a nightmare and came to hold her until she fell back asleep. Mama always said he was just a busy man and that he did love Arllette very much, he just had problems showing it. In Arlette's opinion, he was just a scary man that lived in the same house as her and Mama. He was very strict with her, and he had never let her into his study before. There wasn't anything in there for little girls, he often told her.

She felt very uncertain of what she should do. On one hand, her father would skin her alive if he caught her in his study, or, on the other, her mother would be in there. If her mother was in the study, then she could probably rely on her mother to not let her father punish her. Marceline had made it clear that she was the disciplinarian, as well as all of the other things that one had to be when they become a parent. Arllette was for her, the one thing she ever asked for, and that was why she couldn't stand it when Alexandre tried to spank her or lock her in her room when she did something that displeased him. The man only ever got away with it when Marceline wasn't around and, since the first time, that was a very seldom occurrence.

Arlette bit her bottom lip. She didn't want to see her father 'punishing' her mother again. The last time it happened, her mother stayed in her room a full week nursing her bruises, only letting Arllette and her most trusted attendants in. In a way, Arlette found it fun. She got to spend a whole week with her mother, playing games with the dogs, eating cakes, and sleeping in her mothers bed. She was sad ,of course, about why it happened, but, who could blame the newly turned four year old for enjoying a week of nonstop fun and love with her mom?

Just as she was about to make her final decision, another loud sound came from inside the study, only this time, there was smoke to accompany it. Forsaking all instincts of self-preservation, she ran as fast as she could into the study.

",_Mama_!" The young girl screamed out as she went.

* * *

Haytham brought his hands up to shield his face from the second blast. Alexandre had been working with some very dangerous chemicals, and the coward had taken to shooting them with his pistol in order to halt Haytham's progress. So far the traitor had set fire to the entire fourth floor of the right wing in his own house, and it seemed that he was not done destroying his property.

In truth, though, there wasn't a force on earth that would halt his attack on Alexandre Sauveterre. The man had betrayed not only the Templars, but, the very mother of his only child. Five feet away lay the cold and lifeless Marceline, her sky blue eyes glassed over, seemingly staring off into the distance, but, Haytham sadly knew better. He was too late to save his old friend.

He saw Alexandre run past a falling bookshelf and out the door on the other side of the room, blocking Haytham from immediately running after him.

", Blast!" He hissed, before turning around to the first exit.

", Mamon!" He had stopped cold in his tracks when he had heard the sound of small feet pattering towards the study. Any thoughts of immediately going after the man dispersed themselves at the sight of a miniature red haired version of Marceline standing in the doorway staring up at him with her mother's big blue eyes.

He didn't say anything, he didn't know _what _to say. He didn't have a plan for this. Obviously the girl couldn't stay here, she no longer had any family to care for her. Seeing as Marceline herself was an orphan and her father was the last living member of his family.

Before he could begin gathering his thoughts and figuring out his options, the girl slid her eyes away from him and onto the floor, where her mother lay.

",Mamon?" The little girl began, in a small, scared voice.

They bolted toward the cold woman at the same time, although Haytham made it there first before grabbing onto one of Arlette's small shoulders and attempting to block her view of her mother's dead body.

She tried to twist away from him, crawl over him, and even shove him away, so she could get to her mother. Her small grunts and cries for her parent hit Haytham in an all too familiar way, giving Haytham the strangest desire to hug the child close to his body, in an attempt to give her some kind of comfort, and he did so, giving Arllette pause.

",Qui êtes-vous? Je veux ma mamon! Quel est le probleme avec elle? Je veux ma mamon!" She cried into his chest, for that was all he allowed her to see. He silently wished he had bothered to learn more french, the only thing he knew was that mamon meant mother, and that could only mean she was calling out for Marceline.

He held her taut to his chest, slightly fearful that she might escape in the house and burn to death, his ever watchful eyes seeing the fires grow larger by the second. They did not have much time.

He pulled her away from his chest, still being wary to block her view. ", Do you speak any English?" He asked slowly.

The look she gave him was answer enough. Her tiny mouth pursed in confusion, her eyebrows knit together, glaring at him like he was a lunatic. He strangely found it adorable.

", Hablas cualquier español?" He tried again.

Her small face instantly brightened up with a small smile",Si!" She she chirped proudly.

He smiled at the girl and nodded",_Now, Arlette, as you can see, this house is burning down around us. If we don't get out we will perish, and that would make your mother very, very sad. Do you want that?"_

_",But, what's wrong with her? Why is she lying down like that?" _

_",I can't answer that now, but, when we get outside, I will tell you what happened here. I need you to trust me, so that I can keep you safe. Now, we must go," _

He pulled her back into his chest and rose , pressing her head into his chest, effectively blocking her sight. His body immediately went into survival mode, he could feel his muscles tensing in his back as he quickly moved from corridor to corridor, trying to find a way downstairs.

He didn't realize the fire had spread as quickly and as thoroughly as it did, all ways to the stairwells had been block off by burning debris. If things were falling apart that quickly, then things were not boding well for the two of them.

Haytham began to whip his head around searching for the nearest room. If he had to jump out of a bloody window in order to get out, then so be it. It's not like they had to be concerned about preserving the property value.

Soon, the floor began to creak under his feet, and he could feel the floor begin to give way under his feet. Thinking quickly, he tossed Arlette as far as he could, without really hurting her, as the ground crumbled. Acting upon instinct, he reached up as he was falling, saying a silent prayer to any god that existed when he felt his hand garb hold of the remainder of the floor that fell out.

As soon as he located a room, he didn't bother attempting to open it like a civilized human. He kicked it in instead, revealing the room to have an open balcony that appeared to lie above the gardens.

* * *

Arlette was scared. There was something terribly wrong with her mother. And, something deep in her gut told her that her father had something to do with it. The same feeling told her that the strange ponytail man was someone she could trust to help her get out of the burning house. That is until he fell through the sink hole that was steadily becoming her house.

She froze in fear as her only protector latched desperately onto the ledge right in front of her. Arllette felt the scant amount of hope that had built up when he had gabbed the ledge wane when she saw him begin to lose his grip.


	3. Chapter 3

Not really understanding that she was roughly one hundred and seventy pounds lighter than Haytham was and was in danger for her life, little Arlette quickly reached out and grasped the coat sleeve that was on the hand gripping the floor and pulled.

",Non, ne relevent pas, Monsieur! Se il vous plait!" She screamed.

He didn't know what she was saying, but the fear and desperation in her voice shook him. He was her guardian now, and she seemed to understand that just as he had. Haytham managed to pull himself up with relative ease, to Arlette's joy. He picked the girl back up and continued his search.

He eventually found a room with an open balcony presumably leading out into the gardens where he swiftly kicked through the glass doors and nearly jumped off, when he realized two things. One: He was on the third and highest floor, and Two: That he was holding a small child who was now dependant on him for survival. Seeing as he really didn't have time to think of a better solution, which he didn't have anyway, he pulled Arllette from his chest onto his back piggyback style. He then proceeded to get a grip on the balcony's ledge and he swung himself and the girl over the banister. He heard Arlette let out a scream out in surpise.

",No mires hacia abajo. Usted no va a caer, te lo prometo," Haytham told the girl.

",Bueno," She sounded like she had started crying.

There was no time to offer her comfort, so, he began to climb his way down. Floor by floor. Window by window. Every time he nearly slipped, because, climbing buildings was an entirely different affair when one has a child strapped to his back, he heard Arlette yelp and could feel her arms tighten around his neck a bit tighter.

They had made it to the second floor when Arlette began to have a little more faith in him. She loosened her grip on his neck, and, she had even leaned over to look down a few times.

",Usted es un gran acróbata, señor!" She told him airily when he made the final drop to the ground.

",Usted me adula, mi señora," Haytham replied with a warm smile as he unlatched her from his back.

Haytham could see the young girl's face fall and he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to tell her that her mother died and her father was responsible. It wasn't a task he was prepared for, but, it was now his duty. Coming from a similar background, he understood all that she was about to go through all too well. It was not in his nature to provide soft words of comfort, or, loving embraces. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do so now. Maybe because he saw himself in her. Maybe, because he saw an asset in her.

Either way, he dreaded what he was about to do.

Kneeling on the ground bringing himself to her eye-level, he placed both hands on her shoulders, both to keep her attention on him and to prevent her from fleeing, if she got the urge.

",_Arlette, there is something you must know. Something that will change everything in your world. Do you know who I am?" _He began.

She shook her head. _",Are you a friend of my Mama's? Why did we leave her inside? Can we go back for her? Where's my father?"_ She barraged him with questions.

He was at a loss for words. Not much left him speechless, he was a very articulate man, but, he couldn't look the girl in the eyes and tell her the truth.

_", Your mother and father have perished. I was too late to save them,"_ He froze in a dreadful realization. The girl probably does not yet understand what death is. _", Do you know what 'Perish' means?"_

He saw ,at first, confusion then grief flood her blue eyes. She stared off into the distance. If Haytham had eyes in the back of his head, he would see her stare at her mothers' beloved gardens.

_", Mother taught me the word. She taught me many words. I think I know the meaning," _She turned her eyes on him _", It means I don't have my Mama and Papa anymore, doesn't it?"_

Haytham hated himself a little for nodding in answer.

She didn't cry, surprising even herself. _", Who were you to my Mama?"_

_", I was a friend. We knew each other well, little Arlette. We accomplished many things together, but, to her, you were always her greatest accomplishment. It was always her intention for me to be your godfather, if the worst were ever to befall her and your father. I am very willing to take you by my side, that is, if you so choose to trust me,"_ He said in the most soothing voice he could muster.

She took a moment to let her eyes trace the paradise that had been her wonderland since the day she was born. All of the warmth and comfort was lost to her now that she no longer had her mother there to hold her. In those few hours, something had changed in Arlette. She was only four, she didn't know the world outside of what her mother had been teaching her, and certainly didn't know this man, but, Arlette was smart. She knew the man before her could be trusted to care for her, he had the type of character she knew her mother to favor, so, yes she would go with him tonight. But, She also knew he wasn't telling her everything. She knew deep inside her that someone hurt her mother. She also had a feeling in her gut that this Haytham knew who did it.

She leaned out a hand and rested it on his cheek.

_", I will go with you. But, only if you tell me all of what happened here,"_


	4. Chapter 4

I hate this chapter. I really do. Y'all just don't know. I know it sucks, so, let me know in the reviews just how bad it did. Maybe, hook me up with a beta reader, if y'all know one. God, it's just so choppy.

* * *

", Good morning, Madame. I say, what a lovely dress and bonnet you wear! That shade of pink does works beautifully with your complexion, my lady".

",Shut up," Arlette said as she walked straight past her adoptive father to the deserted alley behind him.

She shook her head in irritation and set off to the docks as quick as she could without garnering any attention.

...

Ratonhnhaké:ton was amazed. Everywhere he looked in this strange place, he saw something he had never seen before. The cobblestone streets, buildings that seemed to go on forever, it was all so new and overwhelming. Overwhelming. That had been the theme of his life for the past few months.

His body ached from all of the extra activity from his assassin training, and his mind was tired from Achilles' teachings. Subtle reminders of how far he has come, and of how far he still needed to go.

The second the carriage stopped, Ratonhnhaké:ton was out of the door, deeply inhaling the scents of the city. He let his eyes wander everywhere before they rested somewhere he wasn't expecting. He spied the young female from across the street, wide eyed and suddenly nervous. He couldn't understand why he was reacting to a complete stranger this way. There wasn't even anything obviously beautiful about her. The colonial women were always completely covered up, from head to toe.

He almost had a heart attack when he noticed her coming closer to him. Is she coming to talk to them? Why would she? Does Achilles know her? Impossible, the old man never leaves his deteriorating hill. What if She knew him? She could be a Templar! What if she was a spy for Charles Lee and his father?

As the woman passed, She lifted her head up and looked directly at Ratonhnhaké:ton, smiling.

For him, everything stopped. He couldn't hear anything, or, see anything that wasn't the strange woman, with the sky colored eyes. That was it. Her eyes. He was entirely lost in them. In her. And he had never spoke a single word to her in his life.

", Don't stare!," He heard as he felt the familiar whack of Achilles' cane on his arm.

Feeling so ashamed, he hung his head down and muttered a quick,"Sorry" to the both of them.

He felt even worse as he heard a faint giggle in the air, he shot his head up to catch one last glimpse of her, but, to his dismay, she was gone.

...

Arlette leaped from rooftop to rooftop, not oblivious to the turmoil of the citizens below. She believed it wasn't as bad as they all made it out to be, but, she could sympathize with the poor families forced to care for perfect strangers, because some king a thousand miles away said so. The tension these days between the colonials and the British was thick enough to cut with a knife. Which made it an all the more perfect time to strike.

Her task was simple, just make sure to be within sight when the shot goes out. And, that Lee doesn't fall and break his neck. Or get shot. The poor bastard, even after all his years training under Haytham, was still a poor athlete. Maybe that's why he could never get a promotion.

Arlette lightly giggled at the thought.

She liked Boston a lot more than her near native New York. It wasn't as cramped here and the sun's warm light could be found on almost every street. Even so, she had a task to do.

She remembered the native boy from earlier, when she was rushing to the docks. She was instantly aware of his blatant staring as soon as he laid his eyes on her. She was a reasonably attractive woman, so, she was used to the objectifying stares of males, but, this time it was different. His gaze wasn't filled with lust or greed, like so many others. It was pure and, dare she say it, amazed. It meant nothing to her, other than the realization that maybe not all men who weren't Haytham were the same. Even so, she had work to do.

...

Haytham laughed as he followed her, smiling at her adolescent response.

", This ugly dress was your doing, I know it," She shot at him.

",Perhaps, but, can you blame me? It's not everyday I can enjoy making you miserable," He place his hands on her shoulders, chuckling at the way she glared at him. ",Ah, but, still, we have business to attend to".

Arlette reached up to tear off the ugly bonnet, revealing a sunset colored bun, loose from her rough treatment of the bonnet. She gently shook her head, eager to get the feeling of air through her scalp. Even at 18, Haytham still got a kick at pissing her off.

",What do you need from me? I thought you had James and Lee for the task today? Surely they are enough for just following you around today," She said.

",More than enough, _if _that was all I suspected they would be doing today," He said in that vague tone that would grate on Arlette's nerves.

Rolling her eyes she said ", Well, what is it that we are to be doing then?"

Haytham looked upon the grumpy face of his surrogate daughter. She had come far ever since that night in France. She had overcome many hardships in his care, most of the being his fault. It had molded her into an expert Templar, and an exceptional woman.

He gestured around him and said", Look around Boston, my dear. What do you see?"

", I see a powder keg, waiting for someone to light the fuse. The people here are nearly at a boiling point," She said.

", Yes, love, exactly. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and, we just so happen to be holding the blade," He said with a nod. ", For the Order to gain complete control of the land, we need to take advantage of the people's anger and steer them in the right direction. Today, Arlette, we ignite the fuse, and, get the ball rolling."

She nodded in understanding", What am I to do?"

...

She only had little time to find a hapless citizen on the streets that was scrawny enough for her to fit in his clothes and meet them at the rendezvous point. It was frustrating not being having enough time to sneak back into her room at the inn without being seen, but, this was the only alternative. She couldn't be seen darting about rooftops in a skirt, of course.

Her eyes scanned the busy streets desperately. Surely there was a passed out drunk _somewhere. _Luck wasn't on her side that day. All of the usual alleys and dark corners of Boston were empty. It seemed that all of the cities regular low lives had decided to take a day in for something.

Arlette silently cursed whatever it was that was more important than an alcoholic's daily poison and pass out ritual.

",_Dammit," _She cursed in her head.

It began coming to her understanding, and vast displeasure, that she was going to have to decapitate and steal a uniform from one of the redcoats. Of course, it wasn't as if it was any much harder than drunks, it was just that it was harder to cover up. First, you would have to find one scrawny enough, so that their uniform doesn't swallow you whole. Secondly, he would have to be alone, which, in these days, would be very hard to find. You had to find someone that no one would miss too much.


End file.
